I can't believe this
by Chaos242
Summary: Ever wonder where Adam and Chris met? Probably not! Don't worry, there's a Super Saiyan, promise.


Fanfic. Fanfic never changes. People make OCs and then forget about them. Then, in a rush of horrible adrenaline and fear of one's own existence, those OCs come back to haunt their creators. This is one of those. A new kind of Crackfic. A Shatteredfic.

*Cue the opening song and animation*

RULES OF MIDDLE SCHOOL

DON'T DISRESPECT THE AUTHOR.

IF YOU DISRESPECT THE AUTHOR YOU WILL GO TO TIME OUT.

FIGHTHING IS HOW WE LIVE

THE PLAYGROUND IS A BATTLEFIELD SHARED BY ALL WHO LUST FOR VIOLENCE.

DON'T REPORT ME TO THE POLICE.

SERIOUSLY, IT'S MAKE BELIEVE.

STOP TYPING 911 INTO YOUR PHONE.

Dude come on, not cool.

Fuck you.

THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE….FACTION!

Dawn, and with it, a new day. Only, there's no hope for anything new, really. Every day that the members of the suicidal chickens awake, they find themselves in the same old routine. War. War against their peers, their brothers, and their mentors. Peace left this party long ago, because fuck all that noise peace is boring. Seriously, would you want to read a story about a bunch of fucking middle schoolers just having a good time? No, nobody wants that shit. And if you did want that, then go watch Lucky Star or some weeb crap you assbasket.

"Who the fuck is talking?!" Yelled Adam as he wiped tooth paste away from his mouth.

…Nobody, small child, nobody is talking. Go back to brushing your teeth while I expose for the reader.

"Why are you getting naked for the reader?"

No, I mean expose, like make exposition for the reader so that they have context for the upcoming story.

"…What?"

Shut up. This shit will get confusing if we keep up this kind of banter.

"Ok. Well…whatever."

Ahem. So, where was I? Right!

Every day is the same for the members of the suicidal chickens –

"You already said that," Adam replied through floss

What? Oh, did I? Shit, ok, thanks kid. Now stop listening so I can get on with this.

"Ok."

On the playground, a war was being fought, one between the suicidal chickens and –

"No, we have to talk about that name." Said Adam as he pulled on his yellow school uniform.

What? What's wrong with the name?

"Suicidal chickens? You tell me what's wrong with the name!"

But that's the real name you and your middle school friends gave to your group!

"Too fucking bad, if we were going for accuracy this story would suck anyway. Besides, since when did eleven year olds say the word 'fuck' so often and easily?"

I mean, have you seen kids these days? Things aren't the way they used to be. I hear middle schoolers talking about blowjobs and shit all the time! It's horrible! Where's the innocence of youth?

"Wasn't that a concept set up in Victorian England by writers who were weirdly sexually obsessed with little kids?"

Ok, yes, but that doesn't just make it ok for little kids to be familiar with the dark realities of this worl –

"Then aren't you just setting them up for disappointment that will haunt them for the rest of their days as they try to come to terms with the fact that everything they were taught about people loving one another as children was wrong and the world is a horrific place full of terrible people and ideas? Wouldn't you be doing them a favor by just introducing them to the truths of this world at a young age so they are prepared for their soul crushing experiences in High School and the fact that 90 percent of them will file their way into jobs they don't want and lives they're trapped in by circumstance?"

…You're a wordy little fucker, aren't you?

"You know what, just tell the story. I'm done getting ready for school anyway."

Well, at least we can begin now.

"Is this gonna be one of those stories where I go to school and the day never actually seems to end, and thirteen chapters into this we still haven't gone home yet?"

N-no…

"I'm eleven and I can tell already that you're full of shit. You're not gonna give up on this story half way through, right?"

No! I don't do that. I never do that!

"Really? Want to talk about Squad 13?"

I don't know enough of the proper Warhammer 40k lore and terminology to do it justice, that's all!

"Ok, fair, how about Metroid: Origins?"

That was my first fanfiction! Nobody finishes their first fanfiction!

"Wrong, but let's say I believe you. How about Necrosis?"

I did a lot of work for that story outside of ! I'm just…refining it. Yeah.

"Really? Ok, what about ZA? Where's that story been for 4 years?"

Look, it's complicated.

"What, did you pawn it off to a fan or something?"

…

"Oh my god, did you seriously?"

No! I wouldn't do that! Why would I do that?

"Because you got bored."

No, because I went to college and have better stuff to do with my time!

"So now you're saying that the fan working on it _doesn't_ have better stuff to do with his/her time?"

I didn't say that. Look, whatever, that one's still being worked on, either way. I do plan to release it once it's done.

"Ok, how about the prequel?"

I'm writing it right now.

"No, the other prequel."

There isn't another prequel.

"Yes, there is!"

No there's not.

"I could have sworn I read part of it."

Ok, how?! You're just a reimagining of myself at eleven!

"Wait, I'm supposed to be _you?_ But you're such a bitch!"

Shut up, kid! I can write you out at any time, you know!

"Fair, fair. But that doesn't make you _not_ a bitch."

Whatever. Got any more new and interesting ways to insult me?

…

"Ysgramor."

FUCK OFF!

And then the story actually started.

The bell for recess rings. Another toll of Charon. Soon the war begins anew. The suicidal chickens stand by the fallen log at the edge of the forest, planning today's assault. The group was a ragtag team, made up of 7th, 5th, and 3rd graders. Their ongoing war was against the 8th graders and their 6th grade lackeys. Early in the year, the 8th graders had captured the play tower, a gigantic structure of wood and rope, gargantuan in comparison to the lowly plastic houses below. Since the war had begun, the suicidal chickens had had no success, and many losses. This was day three of the war.

The chicken's brilliant leader, James, was poking into the dirt with a stick.

"We'll have to be more creative this time," he explained, "A diversion would be best. A small force of substantial fighters will draw the 8thers' attention while the bulk of our men storm the other side of the tower. We'll throw our onion grenades in before we get there to blur their vision, and then strike them while they kick the onions out of the fortress. They won't know what hit them. We'll just have to be careful of Joey. If he decides we're being a bother, then this plan is folly. Any questions?"

One of the 3rd graders fell over.

"Good. Let's move."

The group marched its way across the baseball field, with a small portion of their ranks breaking off and heading into the forest which surrounded the entire recess area. The bulk of the group then hid in the bleachers, about half a football field away from the play tower, and their enemies. James turned to his men(?) and looked staunchly in each of their eyes.

"Boys, today we take back the play tower. Our enemies are powerful, but we are numerous. The laws of nature dictate that numbers will always defeat singular predators. So like a herd of wildebeests trampling Mufasa, we shall trample the 8th grade!"

Another of the 3rd graders fell over.

"Damn it, why do we even keep you guys around?" Asked James.

Behind him, a dark figure loomed. Well, not really loomed, they're all pretty fucking short, but more like stood there menacingly. James's eyes went wide for a moment and he spun around just in time to be caught around the neck by a tiny hand and lifted into the air.

"Y-you!? It can't be!" He sputtered between wet lips, "You were supposed to be dead!"

The dark figure chuckled deeply, well, deeply for a 7th grader, and pulled back his hood to reveal…his face. What did you expect, that he'd reveal the United States' Constitution?

Meanwhile, the group going through the forest was having a rough time of things. An 8th grader was patrolling nearby the forest's edge when he spotted movement. He hadn't seen that it was the suicidal chickens, though, and the group had hunkered down inside a small stream.

The boy in charge of the group was named Michael. He was a freckled boy who had been trained in karate. He looked with anxiety at the 8th grader who searched for them.

"That's Serra." Michael whispered to his men(?), "He's the most sadistic of the 8thers by far. During our second assault he captured some of the 5th graders. They came back without their ears."

Behind him, Seamus shuddered, "God, really? That's so horrible!"

Seamus was a small boy with a wire-frame body. A budding ponytail of several vomit-like colors hung from his head. Seamus was well known for being the strongest of the group, but only when it was most convenient.

"Yeah, it really happened," confirmed Michael, "Their parents sued the school and everything, but the 8thers have too much political power. Most of their parents are congressmen or mayors. They're all rich bastards, except for Joey. That kid's just insane."

"Wow." Replied Seamus, "That was a lot of stuff I already knew."

A twig snapped and Michael looked up to see Serra's knees. An inhumanely deep voice emanated from his being.

"Hey nerds. Whatcha doin' over here in the mud?"

The boy was at least 5ft tall already, dwarfing most of the suicidal chickens. He held his hand up in front of him, fingers stretched as if to offer a handshake.

"Need some help? I can call the guys to come pull you out of there if you want." His eyes flashed a vibrant but **EVIL** purple.

"No, Serra, we'll be ok." Offered Seamus quickly, "Just looking for snails!"

"Snails?" Serra asked, the **EVIL** light disappearing from his eyes

"Yeah, snails!" Michael chimed in, "We're looking for snails! You know, for science club?"

"Fucking nerds." Serra smirked and started to walk away

Seamus quickly threw a rock at Serra, knocking him on the back of the head with such power that the boy's skull made a thick cracking sound and he fell over.

"Holy shit Seamus, did you _kill_ him?!" Michael cried as he climbed out of the stream and went to look at the fallen 8th grader, "He looks like he's actually dead!"

Seamus climbed out behind him, "Well, you said he literally pulled the ears off some 5th graders! He totally deserved it!"

"I was fucking kidding!" Michael yelled back, "He only pulled the ears off one kid. It wasn't that bad."

"What do you mean, not that bad? That's some kid's ears!"

"You're both wrong. I never pulled anyone's ears off. I pulled their cocks off." Serra was standing up again, holding a hand to the back of his head. His eyes were glowing purple again. **EVIL** purple!

"Holy fuck Serra, that's messed right the fuck up!" Michael cried as he took a step back

"Yeah Serra, what the hell?!" Seamus said while picking up another rock

Serra chuckled, "Because, bitch. At the end of the year, I'll be the only one of you with a cock left."

He dashed towards Seamus, who threw his rock. It shattered into dust when it hit Serra. The sadistic cock-ripper grabbed Seamus's tiny ponytail and lifted him into the air. Seamus kicked but to no avail. Serra turned to Michael, smiling.

"Now, you fucking nerd, call your friends out of the forest and tell them to get on the ground. I've got some cocks to rip out."

Michael ran away. I don't blame, him, that shit's fucked.

"So, you want to help out?" James asked as the dark figure picked through the shiny stones under the bleachers

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Dunno."

"Ok."

There was a short silence, punctuated by a 3rd grader falling off the bleachers.

"So…" James began, "We should have received the signal from Michael by now, but I haven't heard anything yet."

"What's the signal?" the dark man asked

"Farts."

"What?"

"We bought one of those gigantic novelty whoopee cushions."

"Why….?"

"To use as our signal."

"Why….?"

"So that we know a signal has been given."

The dark man punched a bench, bending the metal inwards, "No, I mean why did you have to use a whoopee cushion as your signal?"

"Because we're in 7th grade?"

"Exactly, so start acting like it!" The dark man pulled his hood off again to reveal a long scar running down his face, sealing one of his eyes shut, "This is war, not some playground punchout."

"But we're on a playground."

The dark man sighed, "You know what I meant, James."

"I know, Adam, I'm sorry."

There. Now we can stop fucking around with the 'dark man' crap. I was starting to feel racist.

"Two cocks down, and two more to go!" Serra cried with joy, wiping a bloodied hand on the grass

"How the hell do our teachers not see this!?" Seamus cried from his position chained to a tree, "And where did you even get these chains!?"

"I'm rich, assbasket, I can afford chains!" Serra said with a note of rapture, "Now that we've dealt with the unnamed peasants, it's time for you, Michael."

In the background two 7th graders who were never named mourned the loss of their cocks. And then died from blood loss. FBI should be knocking on this door any second now.

"You sick bastard, Serra!" Michael cried, "I won't forgive you for this! I can't forgive you! And I thought I ran away, how'd I ever get back here?! It doesn't make any SENSE!"

A yellow light began to radiate from Michael, pulsing through the air and rippling the grass of the field and the trees behind him.

"NOW I'M MAD!" He yelled out as his hair lifted upwards and turned yellow and his eyes turned a shining blue.

"What?" Serra cried out, "The Legendary Super Saiyan?! Impossible!"

Michael broke out from the bonds holding him which weren't described by the writer because fuck that. He dashed forward and landed a punch on Serra, sending him flying across the field and into the dirt. Michael then turned around and broke the chains holding Seamus to the tree.

"Thanks Mike." Seamus said with a smile, "I always knew you were a super Saiyan."

"Yeah, not gonna lie, I didn't know. Not sure what's going on." Michael responded, "But if it allows me to beat the shit out of Serra, then I approve!"

Serra pulled himself out of the crater in the field, dirt and bones falling off his school uniform, "You know what, Michael? Good job! Congratulations! I applaud your effort, but this isn't happening anymore. You just caught me by surprise is all! I'm ready for you now, and super Saiyan or not, I'm gonna beat you down and rip your cock off!"

Serra dashed forward, growing in size from a large 8th grader to a small Arnold Schwarzenegger, his body casting a deep shadow on Michael's small form.

"Oh god!" Seamus cried out, "I forgot about Serra's special ability! He can grow to the size of a full grown body builder! What a strange world I live in."

Serra threw a massive fist down towards Michael, who raised both his arms to block the attack. Still, the 7th grader was pushed back, tearing grass and dirt up under his shiny black uniform shoes. Serra continued to push Michael, taking a step forward, and then another, and another, until Michael had his back against the tree Seamus was attached to.

"You're weak!" Serra yelled, "I'll crush your cock!"

"Hey Serra!" Came a voice from below the giant, "I'm gonna punch you in the dick!"

Seamus then punched Serra in the dick, but his fist was met with only pain. Serra's crotch was empty of genitalia! Taken aback, Seamus stood up and was kicked by Serra's tree-trunk-like leg into the stream.

"Careful Michael, he doesn't have a dick! Or balls! And while I don't know what girls have in their pants, I don't think he has one of those either!"

"Vagina, Seamus, it's called a vagina!" Michael yelled back and the tree he was being pushed into began to splinter, "We both went through 6th grade, you should know this already!"

"I was asleep during that class!"

With that, the tree splintered and Michael was sent flying into the stream alongside Seamus, except Seamus wasn't there anymore.

"What?" Serra said in confusing, wheeling his huge head around to look for the tiny ponytailed kid, "Where'd he go?!"

Suddenly, two feet firmly dug into Serra's cheek and sent him flying. Seamus landed where the sadist used to be and panted a little, "Didn't you see the writer's text, I'm strong when it's convenient!"

"Then why didn't you break the chains and save the other two 7th graders?"

"Who's asking"

"I don't know."

"Well."

Back at the play tower, the leader of the 8th graders was getting impatient. Christian was his name, and he was no fucking joke. This kid was almost 7 feet tall, already had a six pack (both of beer and muscle) and carried a goddamned steel baseball bat around with him.

"When the hell was Serra supposed to get back again, Boss?" Christian asked to the real leader of their organization, for whom he was a puppet used to control the 8th graders.

"Soon, Christian, soon." Answered the rather short kid near the window of the tower, "Man, is there nothing more evil than someone ominously saying 'Soon' twice in the same sentence. I think not! What do you think, Christian?"

"I'm a Buddhist." Christian responded

"No, your name is Christian."

"Well, that's just insensitive." Christian responed, looking rather upset

"Well, it's your name. How are you Buddhist anyway? You're such a dick!"

"I'm an **EVIL** Buddhist!" Christian said back while popping a beer open with his teeth

"Is that off-brand light beer?" the ominous guy asked

"Yeah, you got a problem with that?"

"Hell nah bitch, gimme somma dat!"

Michael punched Serra in the gut and flew away, stopping a few feet in the air above his opponent. Seamus lay against a destroyed plastic house, surrounded by confused preschoolers who will not be mentioned after this point.

"This is the end, Serra!" Michael shouted as blue energy gathered in his hands, "This is my most powerful attack!"

"Bring it on, nerd!" Serra replied, throwing his chest forward, "I can take whatever you can throw at me!"

"I warned you, Serra! Now you'll pay for all the cocks you've ripped off!" Michael did a copyrighted pose, "Kaaaaa….meeeee….haaaaaaa…meeeeee….."

"Oh, I've never seen this before!" muttered Serra with ironic delight

"HAAAAAA!"

A massive beam shot forth from Michael, plummeting at Serra, whose eyes opened with terror as he realized his mistake. Then someone jumped in front of the blast and ate it. Just opened their mouth and swallowed it. It was fucking crazy. The mysterious figure landed in the ground, let out a smoky sigh, and turned to face Serra.

"So, you must be the one I've heard about?" Said the kid with somewhat long hair that looked as if he'd grow it out through high school and college but later cut it, "Serra? The kid who can become a man?"

Seamus lifted himself out of the stream, "Not really, he doesn't have a dick!"

"Shut up!" Yelled Serra, "Who are you, intruder? Why have you interfered with my fight?!"

The mysterious figure threw back the hood that he wasn't wearing earlier, "I am Chris, and it is my destiny to control the multiverse."

Somewhere, a 3rd grader fell off a bench.

"What? The multiverse?" Serra questioned, "That sounds pretty evil, kid."

"Or maybe morality is bullshit and you should stop trying to rationalize the world around you with words like 'good' and 'evil'." Chris responded, crossing his arms, "God, I hate generic villains like you."

"But wouldn't using the word villain make you kind of a subscriber to that same generic status quo?" Seamus asked from the stream's edge

"…Someday I'm going to feed you to my enemies for that." Chris responded, "For now, prove yourself useful and help me beat this guy!"

"How do we know we can trust you?" Seamus asked

"I'm also a 7th grader." Chris lied

"Ok, sounds legit to me. " Seamus replied

"Whoever you are, we appreciate the offer for help, but why did you eat my beam attack? How'd you even do that?" Michael asked, still floating in the air

"How _did_ I do that?" Chris asked himself out loud, "Weird. Moving on. Seamus, the left!"

Seamus dashed at Serra from the right and tripped him.

"Ha, I knew you really wanted me to attack from the left, Chris, we're already getting along so well!"

"DAMN IT WHY DIDN'T YOU LISTEN TO ME?!" Chris yelled as his hair grew in length and wrapped around Serra's limbs, lifting him into the air, "Now, Michael, finish him!"

"How do you know my name!?" Michael demanded as he flew through Serra, opening a gruesome hole in his chest

Chris dropped Serra and Michael landed in the stream, because I like setting clarifiers. Seamus stood up and looked at Serra.

"That's what you get for ripping people's cocks off, Serra." He said with passionate hatred

"Joke's on you, Seamus, once I'm dead Christian will start sending people to find out what happened. My brothers Markus and Yohan will be coming to seek me out, and they're ten times stronger than I am!"

"Jokes on you, Serra." Chris said with an adjective that isn't generic, "You're still gonna die here."

They all stood around Serra for a moment, while the technical 8th grader huffed and puffed out blood and viscera. Then Chris started fumbling in his cloak and cursing.

"Shit, don't die yet, I want your powers!" He yelled and he dug through pockets, "Damn it, where is it!?"

A small glass skull fell out of Chris's clothing and onto the ground. Chris shot himself down and picked it up, "Yes, I got it!"

"He's dead, Chris." Michael said quietly as he deactivated his super Saiyan form.

"FUCK!"

Adam lowered his binoculars, "Looks like Serra found out your little plan, James, and tried to put an end to it."

Adam silently thought to himself, "There is another."

"What?!" Exclaimed James, grabbing the binoculars, "Oh god, are they ok?!"

After a few moments he relaxed, "Crap, looks like we lost two unnamed people. Phew, looks like they beat him though. But who's that kid with the hair? And why is he punching Seamus?"

"NO, YOU IMBECILE, YOU CAN'T EAT MY GLASS SKULL!" Chris yelled while punching Seamus, who had his jaws firmly locked onto the artefact

"Whoop, looks like hairy guy knocked Seamus out. Never seen someone do that before." James narrated

"Look, we'll have to regroup and try again tomorrow." Adam suggested as he pushed a 3rd grader off the bleachers, "If this guy wants to help, so be it, right?"

"Fair enough." James agreed, sighing, "But what should we do now? With Serra dead, the 8thers will bulk up their security and start putting stronger guys out to guard their tower. We may not have another chance to sneak up on them."

"It's doesn't matter if they're strong," Adam explained, "Nobody can survive my new power."

The boy reached into his trench coat and pulled out a shotgun.

"Holy shit, Adam, what the fuck?! That's a gun!" James yelled, startling a 3rd grader so much that he fell over

"Victory is assured, my friend." Adam said while laughing in a somewhat **EVIL** tone

"Jesus man, as long as you know what you're doing." James said back, still looking rather off-put.

"Are there going to be any girls in this story?" Seamus asked, suddenly next to Adam and James.

Nope.


End file.
